HUNTING (PAVAD) Page 19

  They needed to resolve this thing between them. Before it drove them both nuts.

  He put a hand on her spine, ignoring the way she stiffened. She kept walking. He kept pace. “And you don’t trust many. I think Al’s right. Mom is feeling a bit displaced. Ruthie will help with that.”

  “And Al says so far, Ruthie has prevented your mom from the when-are-you-giving-me-grandkids conversation.”

  “Always added benefits.” He led the way to the elevators. She’d head to the basement where her pathology lab was located, while he’d head up to the third floor to meet up with his team. He’d threatened to stay at her side all day, even when in the building, but Julia had balked at that completely. So they’d compromised—he’d stay with her everywhere but PAVAD. “Julia, maybe Al could pick Ruthie up and you and I could go somewhere and talk…”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know. Anything other than serial killers, PAVAD, three-year-olds. Hell, even my sister. Just you and me, someplace quiet.”

  “For what purpose? Do you want to…foamicate again?”

  She looked up at him and he burst out laughing, seeing the spark of humor in her eyes directed at him. It was reminiscent of the Julia he’d seen in the video Georgia had shown him months ago. It was…beautiful. She was beautiful. Did she even realize that?

  “Heard that, did you?”

  ”Sure did. About peed my pants. You handled it better than I would have.”

  He sobered. “I think I spit toast at the wall at that question. Poor kid, Byrum probably expounded on ‘thou shalt not fornicate’ every night at dinner. No wonder that was her first question.”

  “No more. She’ll have a happy, somewhat normal childhood. I’ll see to it.”

  “I know you will, sweetheart.” And if he had anything to do with it, he’d be right there beside her to help. With Ruthie. And with any other child they had.

  Because once he made his mind up about something, he wouldn’t stop until he had accomplished what he’d set out to do. She didn’t stand a chance.

  ***

  Jules actually trembled when he looked at her. He was up to something, and she knew for a fact she wasn’t going to like it. His hand burned where it rested on her spine. Why hadn’t he dropped his hand? Why was he still touching her? What in the hell was he planning? Jerk. He liked having her off-center.

  Yes, she’d heard what Ruthie had asked him. And it had embarrassed her, to some extent. But it was just one of those questions kids asked.

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Nothing would come of it. We both know that. Wasn’t that something we’d agreed on?” Did she hear a bit of fear in her own voice? Why? Would he catch it? “Last night was just another slip.”

  He was a damned mind reader, how would he miss it?

  “Was it? Maybe, I’ve had time to rethink what we decided. Maybe I think we can both agree that there is something worth acting on. Unless…you’re too afraid?” He leaned closer, then reached around her and pushed the down button on the elevator. No one else was in the parking garage yet, and she felt that isolation now. “What are you afraid of, Julia?”

  “Just…just leave me alone.” Her words broke, and that annoyed her. “I’m not interested in permanency. Does that bruise your ego a bit?”

  “Fight it all you want. We both know your pulse is racing, your breath is backing up in your throat, and you’re feeling a bit warm in places. Because you are just as attracted to me as I am to you. Why deny it? I was there last night, too. We are both human beings, and human beings need that type of connection. Can you deny it? For once, don’t lie to yourself.” He guided her into the elevator before she realized his intentions. He backed her up against the panel by the floor buttons. Jules slipped her hands flat against his chest. Against the soft pale blue cotton that made his eyes look that much deeper. Damn him.

  And damn her. What was she doing?

  “I won’t hurt you. I’d cut off my right arm to avoid doing that, don’t you know?” He whispered the words against her ear. Jules’ eyes closed and she forced herself to take shallow breaths. Why did he do this to her? Just when she’d come to a decision about him, he touched her and every rational thought flew out of her head. “Don’t you?”

  She felt herself nod before she even realized she’d moved. “Malachi…”

  “Shh. We’ve got less than thirty seconds until we reach your floor. Just give me those seconds. Then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day. I promise. Unless you’re too frightened? Think you can’t resist me?”

  She knew what he was doing. Damn him. But it didn’t matter. Even him challenging her, daring her, to fight the heat that he was causing wasn’t enough to have her stepping away from him. Was it just because she’d slept in his bed, with his scent all around her that her defenses were down? Or was it because he’d looked so…well, so cute and flustered when faced with Ruthie this morning?

  Or was it just because he was catching her in a moment of total weakness? “Bastard.”

  “Scared?”

  “No. Practical. Realistic.”

  “Uh huh. Tell you what, next time you get the urge to foamicate with someone, remember this.” He kissed her—long, hot and deep. Just like he had in South Dakota. Just like he had last night. Now she had so little resistance it was pathetic.

  Had they been at his house in that moment, she’d have already given in. Again.

  And that was what was the most pathetic of all.

  He pulled back, and she smacked his chest. “Back off, Neanderthal.”

  “I’ll pick you up at six. We’ll get Ruthie and then head home. How about that? Maybe we can watch a princess movie, and eat cookies.”

  He grinned at her, that irrepressible, arrogant, egotistical Mr. Perfect grin that drove her three directions up the wall. The elevator door popped open as if he’d commanded it, and he stepped out. Jules stayed where she was, staring at him.

  She wanted to hit him again. She wanted to run. Hell, she wanted to kiss him again. Damn him.

  Jules did the only thing she could think of as the door’s slid closed. She shot him a one-finger gesture. He blew her a kiss. “Later!”

  His laughter echoed around the elevator the entire way down to her floor.

  Damn him, damn him, damn him.

  He really was pretty darned close to perfect. At least, to her.

  And that ruined everything.

  Oh, damn him…

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  * * *

  Her office was booming when she arrived. More than half a dozen techs were waiting in her office. Mia held court in the midst of them.

  Jules hung up her coat and stowed her bag in her desk drawer. “Mia? What’s going on?”

  “Violent Acts team. A multi-fatality shooting here in the city.”

  “And we get them.” It was the largest amount of fatalities her team had faced since her assignment to PAVAD.

  “Don’t know why.” Mia looked frazzled and stressed. “Just know that we do. Fifteen. All GSWs. Some kids.”

  “Ok. We’ll split down the middle. You take Tomas and Frank. I’ll take Leah and James.” The rest of the techs in her office she recognized as pathology interns from the neighboring St. Louis field office. Mia had most likely requested their assistance. “Split the interns, too. Give me the files you have there.” She took the stack of intake forms Mia held out and counted out eight for her team. “Let’s get to work.”

  Fifteen autopsies would take at least three days of ten hour shifts. She and Mia were going to be very busy for a long time to come. She probably wouldn’t get home to Ruthie until closer to eight o’clock. Just in time to put her to bed. Dammit. She’d have to call Meredith and let her know.

  ***

  By the time she’d finished three of the autopsies on her docket, Jules was exhausted and absolutely sick at what she’d seen. Two of the victims on her schedule were just children, a boy and girl around the ages of ten or twelve. Hit
in the crossfire. Thankfully, they’d died almost instantly and hadn’t suffered too much. There was at least the knowledge that they probably hadn’t known what was happening to them, or been aware enough to feel the pain.

  If that could be considered a blessing for their parents.

  She always hated when it was children on her table, and she’d never met another pathologist who didn’t echo those sentiments.

  Mia had been lucky; her schedule hadn’t included the kids. But she looked just as strained as Jules knew she felt. It was ten minutes before they were to leave for the evening—two hours later than normal, and it was the first time they’d stopped working all day. Jules knew they could stay and finish the other half of the autopsies, but as exhausted as they were, something important could be missed. And that was not something she—or Ed Dennis—would tolerate.

  “Go home, Mia. Rest and try to forget about this for a while.”

  “Sometimes easier said than done.”

  “I know. I’ll finish up the preliminary paperwork, and then I’m going myself.” She dropped her files onto her desk and began rifling through the mail the runner had delivered. It had the stamp of inspection that had been instituted by Ed two months ago after someone had used a special delivery service to deliver explosive chemicals unlike anything ever seen to the forensics lab, disguised in colored smoke bombs. A twenty-two-year-old lab tech had died, leaving behind a fiancé and eight-month-old. Now, every delivery was doubly screened before being ferried to the receiving department.

  A small box sat on one corner of her new mail pile. Jules grabbed it as Mia went into her own small office. She peeled the tape back and pulled out the bubble-wrap.

  She cursed when a wooden object fell into her hand.

  She grabbed her desk phone and dialed the CCU.

  ***

  Malachi opened the pathology lab doors and rushed inside, worried. Julia had just said to get down there—she hadn’t given him any details. He’d been in the elevator when she’d called, and signal had been poor.

  But he’d had no difficulty hearing the strain and slight edge of fear in her voice, though her words had broken from the reception issues. She waited just inside her office door. Malachi wrapped a hand around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “This came today. I just found it. I thought you’d want it for your collection.” She handed him a small package, encased in a plastic evidence bag.

  He looked at the package more closely. A wooden chess piece. Another pawn.

  He cursed. “This came directly to you?”

  Her pretty eyes were worried when she looked up at him. “Yes.”

  She was so pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. She looked pitiful. Nothing at all like she’d looked when he’d left her that morning.

  “Honey, do you feel ok?” He wanted to hold her, but resisted. Now wasn’t the time to push her.

  “I’m fine. Don’t call me honey. I just had a full docket today, we’re two hours past end of shift, and still have five more scheduled for tomorrow and Friday, plus anything else that comes in between now and then.”

  “Where’s Mia?”

  “Has nearly as much. And with Forley retiring on me last month, I don’t have a full staff at the moment.”

  “I’m sorry. Let’s go get Ruthie. I’ll make dinner for all of us, and we can talk about what we’re going to do.” He’d feed her and do what he could to help her forget the damned chess pieces. They’d tuck Ruthie into bed, then he’d see to it that Ruthie’s mother got some rest tonight, too.

  “Will she be safe? He won’t try to hurt her, will he? Promise me that.”

  “No, I don’t think so. He seems to have little regard for children—none of his victims were children. Just be aware at all times. And…whether anyone likes it or not, from here on out, I will be at your side every damn second of the day.”

  ***

  His mother had dinner waiting on them when they arrived to pick up Ruthie. Mal was half relieved. Julia needed to eat. He could easily sense that Julia needed the distraction, and it was obvious she actually liked his parents.

  That would make things so much easier for them in the long run. A daughter-in-law like Julia would please both his parents. Ruthie would just be icing on the cake for them.

  He coughed when the train of his thoughts sunk in. He was thinking marriage. To Julia. When had that happened? He’d thought a relationship would be a great place to start. When had it switched to something more permanent, even in his most private thoughts?

  Because he’d always known it would be that way when he found his woman.

  Malachi wasn’t one to have just simple relationships with women. He’d had a few casual relationships when he was younger; relationships built around physical needs and fun. But not for the past five or six years. No, he’d reached the point where he’d known he was wasting his time with those types of ties. He’d been waiting for a woman he could be with on a more permanent basis.

  Was Julia that woman?

  A part of him certainly thought so.

  ***

  He was watching her with an odd expression in his eyes—odd even for him. There was tenderness there, a softening toward her that she completely didn’t expect. And that made her nervous as hell. What was he up to?

  She hadn’t been kidding when she’d accused Malachi in the past of being a master manipulator. He was probably one hell of a chess player. And the idea that he could somehow make her change her mind, even including what had happened between them the night before, worried her. He was starting to consume her thoughts. She didn’t like that, couldn’t handle it. Not now. Not with so much else to focus on right now.

  Ruthie ran up to her, wrapping skinny arms around Jules’ knees. She scooped her up and held her tight. No matter what happened, Jules was determined that this little girl would always remain safe. No serial killer would ever lay hands on Ruthie again.

  If that meant shacking up indefinitely with the devil that was Malachi Brockman, then Jules would be right there and willing. She’d just have to guard her heart against him somehow. Somehow.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  * * *

  Meredith was serving dinner, and Malachi was probably surrounded by the warmth and love that was his family. Did he even have a tenth of a respect for that love? Did he understand how lucky he had been since birth?

  Selfish men like Malachi Brockman rarely did.

  Not that it mattered to him. He’d gotten over his own parents’ lack of appreciation for him many years earlier. The two people responsible for bringing him into the world had nothing to recommend them to the rest of the world—there was no doubt about that in his mind.

  But a large part of him had always envied the Brockman children the closeness they’d shared with their parents. Not to mention the wealth the Brockmans had showered on their three offspring. They had always had the best clothing, the newest toys, and taken the most interesting trips.

  His family’s idea of a vacation had been a day trip to the nearest beach—which happened to be the least welcoming beach in all of California. He had deserved better.

  He’d often tried to tell himself his parents had done the best they could for him, but even at the times, he’d recognized it for a lie. They hadn’t tried hard enough to provide for him the way he was entitled to be provided for.

  And they’d always liked Malachi Brockman; from the time they’d been in third grade together, they had sung Malachi’s praises. Over and over again. Why can’t you just be more like Malachi? It would make life so much simpler for everyone!

  He’d been the only one to see that Malachi was just a farce. He was as imperfect as the rest of the mere mortals surrounding him. Yet no one, no one, else had understood. The golden boy had done no wrong, had hurt no one, had made perfect grades, had had millions of friends, and had a perfect family home life.

  It should have been him. He was far more deserving.
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br />   Thank goodness for Meredith taking an interest in him. She had been his only source of any type of maternal love. It was because of her he’d chosen his profession, in the first place. All the good works he’d done, he’d attributed to her. And he knew she was proud.

  He’d never forget her surprise and pleasure when he’d shown up at her new home in St. Louis a few years ago. She, at least, loved him.

  He could knock on their door right now and be invited in to join them. Would be welcomed.

  That knowledge was highly tempting.

  He could step inside and see just exactly how much Julia meant to Malachi. How deeply Malachi had brainwashed her into thinking he was the epitome of masculinity. And he could begin the process of pulling her regard away from the imposter and to himself.

  But that would bring too much direct attention to him, if he was the only guest besides Julia and her child. Would Malachi suspect that he was the opponent?

  No. No, he was not ready for that yet.

  But it was highly tempting.

  A car rolled by and he watched for a moment, resisting the urge to smirk. It wouldn’t do to appear too arrogant. But did they really think he didn’t realize the car contained security agents assigned to watch Julia?

  Hadn’t Paige herself reassured him that all necessary steps were being taken to keep Julia—and Malachi—safe?

  From him?

  Surely they realized that the game had many more moves to be made before he would ever consider taking the queen, or putting the king into check?

  That would be an amateur mistake, and one he would not be making.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  * * *

  He tormented her just by looking at her for the rest of the evening. They took Ruthie home, watched a movie, and tucked her into bed like they’d done it together for a thousand nights before.